Original Fic Post: And It Came To Pass [5/7]
Title: And It Came To Pass [5/7]
Author: Stoney
Summary: Two guys on an LDS mission come out of the closet and put their houses in order. About as blasphemous (to Mormons) as it gets, so leave your religious piety at the door, or move along.
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Meta on the LDS church within, but nice and buried so it doesn't (hopefully) read like an encyclopedia. This all started from the MormonsExposed.com calendar featuring these two guys (last names made up by me so I won't get sued) AUSTIN YOUNG and BRANDON CHRISTENSEN. This is a made up story, anything resembling reality is coincidental.

Previous chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4]




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Chapter Five
* * * * *

"If the investigators have not yet committed themselves [...] these commitments must be among your major objectives. [...] Identify anything that might be holding [them] back. Make plans for helping them overcome any obstacles." ~(Instructions to Missionaries)

*****

Austin didn't remember the bike ride home from church. He suddenly came to when Brandon gave his shoulder a small shake.

"Austin! Hey, it's going to be okay."

Austin's head gave an infinitesimal shake; Brandon looked confused and pressed further, "What?"

"No. It's not going to be okay. He's going to know." Austin buried his face in his hands and moaned, "He's going to kill me."

Brandon laughed at that and started rummaging through the cabinets, getting started on dinner. "He's not going to kill you, Austin. And you don't have to say anything. I certainly won't be volunteering anything, you can count on that."

Austin laid his head on the Formica table, watching Brandon pull out noodles and condensed soup cans. "You don't get it. He'll know. Oh my gosh... what have I done?"

Brandon dropped the can opener, grabbed the back of a chair and spun it around to sit next to his companion. "Hey. Hey."

Austin looked up, his face a picture of complete misery and fear.

"Don't think I'm not scared, too, alright? I know what's at stake here. Forget that it’s highly likely that I’d be excommunicated, my whole family shamed, do you think I want everyone back home to know I’m being sent back dishonorably for... fornicating?"

They laughed wryly at the archaic word the Church used to define any acts of physicality.

Brandon quietly sighed, "And we haven't even done that, yet."

Austin thrilled at the casual use of "yet," which didn't help matters. The last thing he needed to think of right now was that one extra act they'd both been too shy to try. He certainly didn't need to imagine Brandon, naked, smashed up against the kitchen counter, his smooth, tanned skin in sharp contrast to Austin's pale, creamy skin, the quiet hitches in his breathing when Austin gripped his backside with both hands, kneading the thick muscle there... He didn't need to think of that at all, not when his dad might show up at any moment with all the authority of the Church behind him.

That sobered him up.

He looked on quietly as Brandon opened cans and mixed various ingredients. Brandon shoved the dish into the oven, set the timer - a goofy rooster who's head spun around, a gift from one of Brandon's sisters - and sat back down next to Austin.

Austin took Brandon's hand, linking their fingers. He found it oddly comforting and ironic that their CTR rings - "Choose the Right," a reminder to follow God's laws - lined up side by side. "What do we do?"

Brandon leaned back in his chair, hooking Austin’s ankle with his own. "I don't know. I don't want to change anything, you know?"

Austin's heartbeat slowed a touch; a feeling of calm was trying to win out. "Yeah. Me, neither. But I don't know how to hide how I-"

He cut himself off, his face flushing, and pushed away from the table.

Brandon stayed in his seat, looking at his empty hand. "What were you going to say?"

Austin paced back and forth in their small living room, rubbing his hands through his hair. "It doesn't matter. Never mind. Let's just focus-"

"It does matter. What were you going to say, Austin?" Brandon stood then, turned to look at him, a funny sort of half-smile on his face. "What?"

Austin couldn't look away, even though he wanted to. He knew his face must be beet red; his hands wouldn't stop shaking. "I don't know how to hide how I feel."

Brandon barely breathed out, "About what?"

Austin felt trapped between the overwhelming need for Brandon and the fear of eternal damnation that his father and the Church had planted in him. He could see something similar in Brandon's face, helping him to take a deep breath and start unraveling the oppressive knots of fear inside him.

"About you. I think that people look at us and they know."

Brandon somehow was closer to him now, that half-smile, half-afraid look still on his face. "What will they know about us, Austin?"

"That we... We're..."

Brandon was moving towards him, backing Austin against the wall. Brandon reached out with one finger and ran it along the edge of Austin's missionary name tag. Austin couldn't breathe for a moment, all he could focus on was the heavy weight in his gut, and Brandon's long, dark lashes covering his intense gaze.

"That we love each other."

Brandon's breath came out in a long exhale. He pulled Austin into a tight embrace, murmuring against his ear, "If you weren't going to say it, I thought I'd have to deck you."

A laugh that was bordering on becoming a cry burst out of Austin. "Oh, Elder," his arms tightened around Brandon's torso. "You know that I could totally take you in a fight."

They both genuinely laughed at that. The timer went off; Brandon pulled away to finish setting up dinner. Austin grabbed two plates and silverware and set them on the table, watching Brandon make a "Missionary Salad" - lettuce and bottled dressing. The scene was so oddly domestic, and yet, felt so right.

Brandon sat across from him at the small table, grinning. "And how was your day, honey?"

Austin smiled back, and reached for Brandon's hand. "My turn."

Austin gave a quick blessing over the food and they both dug in. After a moment he asked, "Wouldn't it be great if it could always be like this?"

Brandon swallowed, "I'd prefer something not from cans, myself."

Austin kicked his shoe under the table. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah," he smiled, "it would be."

The both looked at each other for a long moment. Austin was the first to break eye contact. He pushed the food around on his plate.

"I don't know what to do about this. I don't want to tell him, them, anything. They won't understand and they'll make it ugly. But..."

Brandon leaned his head against the wall. "But I don't want to act like this isn't who I am, that this isn't what I want."

Austin held his breath. "It is?"

"Yeah, ya doof. I mean, I already know you snore-"

"I do not!"

"You do, and that you change your socks three times a day-"

"Wool socks. We're by the ocean, Brandon."

"And if I’m doing it just right, your eyes roll back, you start breathing heavily, and your stomach muscles tighten up right before you-"

"Okay, there! That's enough of that, huh?"

Brandon laughed. Austin gathered up the dirty dishes and dumped them in the sink, turned the water on and squeezed a bit of soap into the mix. Before he could get started on the clean up, Brandon was there, hands on his hips and his mouth at Austin’s neck. Austin dropped the soapy scrub brush into the sink and gripped the edge of the counter top. Brandon thrust his hips forward to grind against Austin‘s backside. Austin sighed as Brandon held him close, his mouth whispering, "He works in mysterious ways, huh?"

They got as far as ties off and dress shirts unbuttoned before the phone rang. Austin jumped back from Brandon as if he’d been hit with a cattle prod. Brandon sighed and grabbed the phone. Austin put himself back to rights while trying to catch what was being said. A phone call on a Sunday night could only mean the MP or their Zone Leader.

“Mm hmm. No, that’s an honor, sir, thank you. We’ll go over the particulars tomorrow, right. See you then. Hasta mañana.

Brandon hung up the phone and calmly reported, “I’ve been made the Zone Leader. We meet with the new Mish Pres tomorrow. Looks like I get to meet your parents first.”

Zone Leader. That meant that he and Brandon would almost always be saddled with another missionary, the phone wouldn’t stop ringing, and they’d be with his father for a good majority of the time.

They’d be with his dad. His father. He and Brandon, the guy he was falling in love with. He flashed back to a conversation between his dad and another priesthood holder back home discussing one of the apostle’s answers to dealing with homosexuals: “Sometimes you might just have to lay them out, a solid punch in the mouth. Although life’s road might be lonely for those of same-sex attraction, happiness can be found in the Church by faithfully following its teachings.”

Austin was beginning to seriously doubt any chance of happiness through the Church’s teachings.





Continues here...